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Posted: Tue Jan 17, 2012 12:55 pm
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Posted: Tue Jan 17, 2012 5:54 pm
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Erik's gaze rose to Myka and was followed by a short nod. "Myka." he regarded then looked back down to the gi - Arwen and listened to her spill secrets. His blank face warped into a small smile when she mentioned this Sebastian wanting him to be picked. "No, your mother chose right when she picked your father." he said softly and rubbed her head like he used to do with his own daughter. Oh, his daughter. Seeing the young girl smiling at him brought deep sadness to his nostalgic soul. "He's resilient," he continued finally. "He can take any insult, any pain, and just pull himself together."
Damian coughed awkwardly at what Arwen said the entire family said about him. It was like being an outcast. He had a gloomy air around him the entire time (And Myka and Arwen's comments didn't help one bit) but Erik's compliment lifted his spirits a little. "Really?" he blinked and looked around as if his friend were talking to someone else.
Erik looked at Damian and nodded. "Of course. I've seen you back when you were with Lili. Never had a wandering eye, you were always there for her. Such a shame she ran off to Hades." He frowned sympathetically.
Damian cringed at the thought of his ex-girlfriend. She was a strange on, much more stubborn than Myka - if possible - and very short-tempered. But she was kind and sweet, and she she shared Myka's need for 'getting to the bedroom'. Alas, she was one of the many daughters of Hades, and if he wasn't off to help his sister, she was off doing Greek god things. "Eh, don't be. Things weren't really working out for us anyway." he muttered and flicked his wrist as if it were nothing.
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Posted: Tue Jan 17, 2012 6:23 pm
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Posted: Tue Jan 17, 2012 6:28 pm
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Posted: Tue Jan 17, 2012 6:32 pm
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Posted: Tue Jan 17, 2012 6:40 pm
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Posted: Tue Jan 17, 2012 6:48 pm
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Posted: Tue Jan 17, 2012 7:06 pm
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Posted: Tue Jan 17, 2012 7:27 pm
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Posted: Tue Jan 17, 2012 8:28 pm
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"But I've learned to ignore Uncle Dom," said Arwen. "After he told me that my old daddy used to be a necromancer, I stopped listening to him altogether. It's silly! If my old daddy was a necromancer, he wouldn't be an angel." She fidgeted in Erik's lap, finally finding a comfortable spot. "Uncle Erik? When I die, will I become an angel?" Myka tried to smile back, but failed. "I just hope she's like my mother. Mum would get knocked to the ground, trampled beneath others feet, then she's dust herself off, get back up, and keep fighting. She used to say 'trudge through the crap, Myka. Get through all the bad stuff, give it your best fight, then when it's all over, you cry. Cry until you can't breath, cry until you can barely keep standing, cry until it stops hurting'. That's stayed in my head ever since." Wrapping her arms around her waist, a tear escaped her right eye. "When things get hard, that's when you learn what you're made of. I learned I'm more like my mother than I ever thought. If I had to be like anyone, I'm glad it's that stubborn, bold, feisty Irishwoman."
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Posted: Tue Jan 17, 2012 9:22 pm
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Posted: Tue Jan 17, 2012 9:27 pm
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Posted: Tue Jan 17, 2012 9:35 pm
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Posted: Tue Jan 17, 2012 9:44 pm
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